


Just Lucid 2

by LanceTheFuckerTucker



Series: Just Lucid [2]
Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom
Genre: Bucky Barnes - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:31:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9420752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanceTheFuckerTucker/pseuds/LanceTheFuckerTucker
Summary: When Bucky receives a letter from you, he fears his past may be catching up on him.





	

Bucky slipped a finger under the seal of the tin white envelope and pulled out the handwritten note. He cast his steely eyes over the words:

“James,

I know you may never be able to forgive me for the terror you suffered at the hands of Hydra; at my hand, but I had to contact you. To tell you that I’m so happy you’re making a life for yourself, bringing so much good to the world, exactly as I knew you would. 

I want you to know that after you went rogue - when Hydra began to crumble - I walked away too. I’ve been on the run in Europe for three years, trying to right my own wrongs. I could never touch the agents, the sleepers. I don’t have the skills. But I have successfully managed to take out the organ grinders. Those weak little men at the top of the tree who ordered all the bloodshed.

 The reason I never tried to find you until now is that I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me after everything that happened. I just wanted you to know that I was never there by choice, I’m sorry, and I wish I had known you before Hydra had got their hands on you.

Anyhow, I’m in Brooklyn now. Back home. If you wish to find me, you know what to do.

All my love,  
The Arlington Doctor”

His hands began to shake. He believed you were dead with the rest of Hydra.

The last time you saw Bucky was before his final mission under Alexander Pierce. The one before Hydra fell. The one before he disappeared.

He was delivered to your base in Arlington by two young recruits. He was slowly awoken from stasis, wiped in the immersion chair and once he was safe in your care, they left you both alone. The idea was that he would leave for Washington in the middle of the night to be briefed.

He always remembered you although you were unsure if it was because you treated him like a person or if you fulfilled all of his other needs. Nevertheless, he sat at the opposite end of the table in that dark and dreary safe house and you talked, just as you usually did. He was pensive; there was something working away behind his eyelids, trying to piece together the reality around him. The same as always. Just a regular mission. Sanctioned by the leader of Hydra himself.

Just an hour before he left, came the same emotionless sex as usual. Actually, it usually happened just before Barnes was due to be wiped, when he was slowly coming out of his complicit state. He was usually aware, fuelled by that awareness. That night, though, he was unhinged. He had just had his thoughts scrambled and it felt like the fuse was lit. Of course he recognised you but he fucked you with the fervour of a condemned man. The bruises on your body lasted for weeks after Hydra fell and he disappeared.

When he was finished with you, when you were a sobbing mess on the floor, his cum leaking trails down your thighs, he left. And that was the last you saw of him.

When word came that Alexander Pierce had been killed and that Barnes had escaped, you felt two things. The first was an overwhelming sense of joy that he finally took his chance to flee and actually have a life worth living; you desperately willed him not to be found. You kept this part of you hidden from your superiors, though, as the other half of you kicked in. The fear. You were responsible for preparing him before he was sent to Pierce. You had been fucking Barnes for months, abusing your position, compromising him. You were partially to blame, in your mind, for the disappearance of the Fist of Hydra. And your life was at stake.

So you did the only thing you could do, when a superior came knocking, demanding answers. You fought your way out of it, arming yourself with any weapon you could lay your hands on, you killed them all and moved on. You fought for three years, weeding out the superiors and the loyalists, killing every one you could find, until you could find no more. Before going back home to start your life over.

Bucky sat in his apartment in Brooklyn, not even a mile from where you were, with the crisp piece of paper dangling between his trembling fingers, unsure of what to do or how to feel. Some small part of him wanted to see you; wanted you to see him as he always wished you would. But, for all he knew, it could have been a trap. He knew, all too well, that there were some stubborn remnants of the machine he served left in the world. Could they be using you to bring him under their control again?

The next day he bought a stack of newspapers. Determined to find you.


End file.
